


In which the Les Amis play Truth or Dare

by chlorineandcoffeestains (AdrenalineRevolver)



Series: Chlorine and Coffee Stains [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-20
Updated: 2013-05-20
Packaged: 2017-12-12 11:18:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdrenalineRevolver/pseuds/chlorineandcoffeestains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Dare," Joly said instantly. </p><p>"Lick the floor!" Jehan replied coolly. Even Montparnasse raised an eyebrow. Marius's eyes were bigger than saucers.</p><p>Joly looked like he was about to have a stroke.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> ((im so sorry, also there is no sex in this. just warning you so you are not disappointed))
> 
> College idiots in their freshman year.

"Challenge accepted!" Courfeyrac began stripping to the sound of Grantaire and Combeferre's beatboxing. They were too white for this, but with everyone a little tipsy it didn't mind the group like it normally did. When he reached his boxers, Courfeyrac sat down with a flourish on Jehan, who blushed furiously.

“Who's next?" He looked around the circle before his eyes met Grantaire's. "Taire! Truth or Dare!" He called out.

The artist froze. He was weighing the options. On one hand, he was mostly an open book, but on the other, he still had some secrets. Then again, it was Courfeyrac. He could end up naked on the roof. Unfortunately for Grantaire, he had too little shame and too much drink. "Dare," he said, grinning wickedly at the boy, daring him to do his worse. Courfeyrac smiled. "You get the honour of giving the team captain a lap dance. And then spend the next four turns in his lap."

Shit. R should have guessed this was coming. Courfeyrac had gotten far too many ideas from the followers on his stupid YouTube channel. He downed the rest of his drink and winked at Enjolras. Pretend you have an ounce of self confidence, Grantaire.

Enjolras jumped a bit but rolled his eyes and looked away. Courfeyrac was always up to something, he thought. Cosette was giggling him beside him. For once, he actually wished he had had a drink. Damn it.

Joly nearly fell over laughing at the captain's tight expression. His face was turned away from R. Unlike most of the uncoordinated team, Grantaire could move his body. Eponine started to play some music on her phone and Grantaire moved in on Enjolras. He didn't give himself time to think twice; if he made an idiot of himself by going overboard with this, the guys would just chalk it up as a joke. Still, a not so small part of him wanted to make sure Enjolras enjoyed it.

Enjolras' eyes widened when he realized that Grantaire was actually going to go through with it. The brunette crawled into his lap and moved in time with the music. Oh God. He looked like something from a X-rated short film. His hips moved in perfect time. Getting so very close without ever touching. Enjolras was surprised when his lip hurt. How long had he been biting down on it? What should he do? Should he stare? Sh-should he say something? His hands were NOT shaking when Grantaire (accidentally?) made contact with one particular roll of those perfect hips. Thank god Enjolras' pants were as loose as R’s drunken ethics.

At this point Eponine was almost in tears. Grantaire winked at Courfeyrac as the music came to an end and he settled, out of breath, in Enjolras’ lap. He wasn't drunk enough for this. At least everyone was laughing. Grantaire felt more embarrassed by the fact Enjolras seemed to hate it than anything else. At least tomorrow he could blame it on peer pressure and alcohol.

“Ok, which sucker is next?" Grantaire looked at Jehan, who squeaked and ducked behind Courfeyrac. Was he that heartless?

As tempting as it was to pick on poor Jehan - and it was very tempting - he hesitated when Enjolras whispered something behind him. "Cosette doesn't know the meaning of ‘truth’." Perfect.

"Cosette!" She stopped giggling beside them. "Who would you bang or awkward sexual task? I mean, Truth or Dare." She rolled her eyes.

"Dare, of course." Grantaire could hear his inner monologue laughing maniacally. "Make out with the hottest person here."

At this point R wasn't sure if it was him or the devil on his shoulder, Enjolras. The whole room gasped at the dare and Grantaire puckered his lips, leaning in towards Cosette. She batted him away playfully. Jehan was the only one who noticed how hopeful Marius was. Cosette turned to look at the group. Some were making bold attempts to grab her attention and thus claim the title of most attractive; the rest were laughing at the sorry souls trying for the makeout session.

"Its me!" Courfeyrac declared. Bahorel quickly puck him in a headlock.

"Cosette, really? I know you have better taste than this idiot," he grinned at her.

Enjolras chuckled just loud enough for Cosette to catch. "I'm going to get my vengeance." Enjolras let his mouth open wide in shock and made a show of petting Grantaire's head like one would a cat. "Would I ever put salacious ideas into such an innocent mind?" Cosette rolled her eyes. It was her turn to bite her lip. Grantaire laughed at the trait they shared. Cosette leaned in towards Courfeyrac, only to pull away at the last minute and grab Eponine and kiss her.

That shut everyone up. Even Courfeyrac. Bahorel let out a low whistle and the boys began to cheer. Marius wasn't sure how to react. Eponine, who wasn't going to be outdone by the sweet blonde girl, deepened the kiss and moved closer to Cosette, almost pushing her down. Grantaire's mouth was hanging open in shock, Enjolras behind him with a similar facial expression. Cosette emerged from the kiss giggling and breathless, saying, "So, who wants to be next....Enjolras?"

Enjolras smirked. "Dare." He wasn't about to let Cosette beat him.

Cosette grinned and tilted her head to the side. "You're going to regret this."

Enjolras raised an eyebrow. "What happened to ‘revenge is a dish best served cold’?"

Cosette thought for a moment. "Strip Grantaire without him ever getting out of your lap."

Eponine and Jehan screamed with mirth at how fast both boy's faces changed from laughter to panic. It was Cosette who started the music this time. The group watched with baited breath as Enjolras slowly began to unbutton Grantaire's flannel shirt from behind. "Sorry about this," he whispered into his ear. Grantaire just nodded; he looked like a frightened animal. Courf snapped a picture but Eponine glared him out of a video. Once Grantaire’s upper layers were removed, Enjolras took a deep breath for courage and hooked one finger in Grantaire's belt loop.

Grantaire moved his hand to the blonde's knee and held his breath as Enjolras pulled off his belt. God, could he go any slower? They both paused for a moment when Enjolras had his hands around Grantaire's waist and was waiting for the other to object to him unbuttoning his jeans. He didn't say a word. He simply tightened his grip on the Enjolras, hoping that he didn't notice his shaking hands.

"Just down to the boxers right?" Enjolras asked. Grantaire had forgotten that his lips were right in his ear.

Grantaire turned so he could see a flash of a smile. "We can save the rest for later."

Joly gasped for air. The beer had gone to everyone's brains. Grantaire hoped to God no one remembered this in the morning. If they did, he hoped they had the decency not to bring it up. Combeferre whistled and Grantaire squirmed in Enjolras’ lap, trying to get his tight jeans off. Why he had thought the red skinny jeans were a good idea, he didn't know. He thanked the gods he had taken off his shoes to avoid that complication.

There was a horrific clock on the wall that Grantaire focused on as Enjolras managed to get his jeans to his knees. It was by Goya, "Saturn Devouring His Children.” He hoped the graphic image was enough to keep his mind focused on something other than Enjolras. Enjolras leaned forward to take hold of a pant-leg and pulled. Grantaire tried his best to ignore the way his stupid jacket felt on his bare skin. Enjolras grabbed his boxers by the waistband and held onto them as he pulled. One leg free. Now the other. Enjolras was able to stretch; he silently thanked hours of cross training and yoga.

After a sharp tug, the jeans came off. He was completely stripped. By Enjolras. In Enjolras' arms. The boy was unaware of just how difficult it was for the blonde not to burst out into nervous giggles. For the most part Enjolras kept his eyes trained on Cosette with defiance so he would neither notice what he was actually doing, nor let his body react to it.

Grantaire had refused to look away from the ugly clock on the wall through the duration of the event. He had kept his breathing steady; swimming had a few benefits after all. "Finished." Enjolras was smiling in triumph at the completion of a challenge, and it had been challenging to bend his body that far. "I'm pretty sure Joly laughed the hardest at me, but then again, Jehan looks like he is about to burst from holding it back."

Enjolras was refusing to acknowledge what just happened. Grantaire wished he could thank him but he was still almost naked in his lap. Remember the vivid red in Goya's painting. And the hair. Goya painted fucking creepy hair.

Enjolras attempted to put the situation out of his mind. He noticed a slight shiver from the boy in his lap and pulled his huge red coat over both of them. The last thing he wanted was Grantaire getting sick from all this. He pretended he didn't hear Cosette’s "Daww". Thats when he began looking for a target. Should he? Was he going to be that evil? "Jehan?" He said with an evil smile. The boy looked up nervously.


	2. Part 2

"Yes?” The boy's voice came from his bright yellow and pink sweater, which was pulled up over his nose.

"Pick one," Enjolras said in a teasing tone. He played with Grantaire's curls without seeming to realize what he was doing as he spoke. R cursed him silently. Why did he have to sound like a hunter as he spoke so close to Grantaire's neck?

"Tru-," the room collectively rolled their eyes and Jehan changed mid-word, "I mean dare! Dare! I'll do a dare. Please be nice."

He was cute, but Grantaire was squirming in Enjolras’ lap trying to get in a more comfortable position, and Enjolras needed an outlet.

"Your task Jehan, is to make Montparnasse blush." He grinned. "Whether it be with words... or actions." Every single word seemed like something horribly suggestive when coming out of his mouth. He wasn't doing anything too awful. He could definitely think of some things that he wouldn't wish on anyone -- especially not Jehan. He had a certain protectiveness over the boy; but this is what Montparnasse gets for bragging about how nothing they could do could throw him off. He'd make it up to Jehan later. But part of him couldn't wait to see the mouse attempt to seduce the panther.

Jehan paled, "You want me to...you want," he gulped and looked over at ‘Parnasse, smoking in the corner. He cocked an eyebrow at the boy. Jehan was shaking and shrinking into Courfeyrac. The other boy took pity on him and gave Enjolras a pleading look, but the captain just shook his head. Jehan was going to have to find courage and complete the challenge. Enjolras knew he would do it. It was going to be as painful to watch as Feuilly's butterfly though. He grinned wickedly and toyed with Grantaire's fingers without realizing he looked like a Bond villain.

Cosette shrugged sympathetically. Poor Jehan. "A-alright." The boy got to his feet and slowly walked over. His hands were visibly shaking and Courf looked like he was about to jump up and attempt to rescue him. Jehan approached the smoker in the leather jacket. 

"I-Ireallylikethedesignsonyourguitarandyou'regreatatit!" And jumped up to kiss him on the cheek before practically running back to his seat. To everyone's surprise a faint dusting of pink went across the Greaser's face.

"Good job." Enjolras purred from his seat. Montparnasse grumbled and took a drag on his cigarette.

"Enjolras, you are turning into dictator," Combeferre said lazily from his spot in the floor.  
Enjolras just grinned and leaned forward, resting his head on Grantaire's shoulder. "So Jehan, who is next?"

Jehan was sweet, everyone agreed, but his next action made a few question it: "Joly!"

"Dare," the boy said instantly. He was not going to be the one to break the chain.

"Lick the floor!" Jehan replied coolly. Even Montparnasse raised an eyebrow. Marius's eyes were bigger than saucers.

Joly looked like he was about to have a stroke. Enjolras barely stifled his laughter in Grantaire's hair. "Evil, Jehan, evil!" His voice still had a dangerous quality to it but now it seemed a bit less like he would have them fight to the death for his amusement. Jehan giggled a bit. 

"I, I, I, I," Joly sounded like a broken robot. "Oh, okay." He shakily got down on his hands and knees and looked at the floor. "You're not coming to my funeral." He whimpered and stuck his tongue to the floor before jumping up and running to the restroom. "OH MY GOD." The group heard him scream.

"None of you are included in my will!" Joly yelled and stormed out.

"He's gone to get something to wash his mouth out with," Bousset laughed.

Enjolras' eyes lit up, "In the absence of Joly, I'll pick the next victim."

The room tensed up for a moment. Everyone looked at the person beside them in the hopes that it would be them. "Eponine?" He smiled and wrapped both arms around Grantaire. "Truth or Dare?"


	3. Part 3

"Do you even have to ask dearest?" Eponine moved like a cat, all grace and sex appeal. The theater had made her unafraid in front of an audience. This was a dare for Enjolras. Not for Eponine. The room hushed waiting for their dark lord to take up the challenge. Her grin was reminiscent of the Cheshire cat from the old Alice books. All eyes were fixed on Enjolras. (All but Grantaire who still looked resolutely at the clock)

Enjolras pointed to the small collection of snacks on the table. "Tie a cherry stem in a knot with your tongue. But it has to be in someone elses mouth and for every time you pull away without the knot you have to remove an article of clothing." Enjolras tended to recognize a challenge when he saw one. He smiled with an obviously fake innocence. "And if you can't you have to play a round naked."

Eponine let out a soft laugh. She knew how to get Enjolras. Reading people was easy and Enjolras was putting everything he had into ignoring the terrified artist in his lap. Eponine's mouth quirked to the side. She stretched out her hand. Combeferre handed her a cherry. She placed the stem between her teeth and moved toward the boys.

Every eye followed her hand as it moved up Enjolras' leg and she leaned toward the captain. It was Grantaire however that she kissed, her hands still running along Enjolras' upper thigh. Grantaire would pay her back later for being pinned between her kiss and Enjolras’ body on the chair.

Enjolras inhaled sharply. He was suddenly acutely aware of a few things. One: everyone was watching; two: Éponine's hand was creeping up to a very dangerous location; and three: had Grantaire been this warm the entire time? He couldn't see anything but he could, in a way, feel it. Everytime Eponine leaned forward and pushed Grantaire back. Every time Grantaire's breath hitched. He suddenly found the hideous clock on the wall very interesting. He wasn't about to let her win.

Éponine pulled away, leaving R with a grin and a cherry stem poking out of his mouth. Could she not take her shirt off like that? With the slow hip movements and eyes on Enjolras, she glanced quickly at Cosette but then went back to the task of making R uncomfortable with his proximity to her boobs.

She worked her tongue into her best friend's mouth - would she toy with is a tad longer or take off her jeans? Grantaire had already tied it in a knot for her, so that was not the issue. She moved in, pressing her body against his and sliding a hand dangerously close to areas Enjolras probably didn't want her to.

Enjolras _did not_ jump. Not at all. Not even a little. He would have paid anything for the rest of the room to vanish. Or at least Courfeyrac. He wanted to throttle her theatre teacher or whoever taught her how to throw those bedroom eyes. Grantaire's skin was soft under his hands and he could feel the boy's heart practically beating out of his chest. He had to save face. "Already lost your top eh? Bet you wish you had worn a few more layers." Smooth. Very smooth. He's actually pretty sure his voice didn't crack. Bonus points.

He should have stayed silent as Éponine slid out of her jeans quickly and went back to her obscene makeout session with R. Finally she pulled away, a lopsided knotted cherry stem was held between R’s grin.

Enjolras took a shaky breath. It was about time. He really hoped that Grantaire couldn’t feel just how hard that display had made him. “Your turn.” His voice cracked that time.

Eponine settled on the ground and leaned on Grantaire’s leg, “Mont, you coward,” she winked at him, “pick.”


	4. Part 4

Montparnasse shrugged. “Truth.”

Eponine had known him from before; Montparnasse’s truth was just as dangerous as other’s dares. “Ok,” she drew the word out slowly, “How old are you, Mont?”

The boy paused and glanced at Jehan before answering. “I’m seventeen, you heinous bitch.” He took a long drag on his cigarette and flicked the ash in her general direction.

Feuilly choked on his beer. Grantaire nearly fell out of Enjolras’ lap. Jehan lost all colour in his face. Eponine cackled.

Mont spoke up. “I’ll be eighteen soon enough.” His voice was as deep as ever and it seemed impossible that he was as young as he was. “Late October.” He looked up at Jehan and took another sip of his beer, daring anyone to comment.

“Seventeen,” Jehan squeaked and quickly covered his mouth with his hands.

Montparnasse cocked his head. “You can’t be that much older. Does it matter, little bird?”

The whole room watched the exchange, all attention moved from the scene in Enjolras’ lap minutes earlier and on to the blushing poet who looked permanently sixteen and had since he was barely fourteen, “I turn 20 early November.”

The leather-clad boy’s eyes widened and his mouth hung open for a fraction of a second before recovering. “Good thing age is but a number.” He shrugged.

“And jail is just a room,” drawled Feuilly.

Mont laughed but still looked over for Jehan’s reaction. The smaller boy was attempting to hid in his oversized sweater. Mont could see the flush leading up to the roots of his auburn hair.

“Jehan, truth or dare?” Montparnasse said with a smile.

Brown eyes peeked out over the sweater at him. “Dare?”

“Kiss me.” Mont’s voice was as casual as if he was saying the time.

Enjolras could fuck Grantaire right there and he doubted even R would notice. Feuilly was on edge, he had a bet running on this sexual tension with Baherol. All eyes were on Jehan. He slowly lowered his sweater and took a deep breath, gathering himself before calmly rising and walking over to where Mont was lounging.

Jehan was so small compared to Mont’s long frame. Two hands framed Montparnasse’s face and Jehan bit his lower lip. He leaned in quickly and brought his lips against Mont’s.

Mont placed one hand on his arm and held him there for a moment, kissing him deeply but not as confidently as he obviously could. He broke apart and left his forehead on Jehan’s. “Your turn.”

Jehan grinned then and without turning his head said in a voice that carried over the catcalls of the boys, “Feuilly.”

“Dare, princess.” Feuilly smirked and leaned forward, ready for anything.

“Get a blindfold,” Jehan ordered.

Feuilly hopped up and took a tie from someone’s bag. “And?”

“Pick a victim, either Combeferre or Marius, and attempt to kiss three body parts chosen by Courfeyrac with that tied over your eyes,” Jehan could hardly manage to get the words out without giggling.

Feuilly eyed the two. He was tempted to chose Com, but the boy probably had dirt on him dating back to kindergarden. “Pucker up, lover-boy” He pointed to a distraught looking Marius and pulled the blindfold over his eyes.

Marius could not have looked more uncomfortable but he was, as always, a good sport and laughed as Feuilly attempted to make his way over to where Marius was seated. Feuilly turned his head in Courfeyrac’s general direction, “Name my poison?”

Courfeyrac clapped his hands in delight. “His nose, his collarbone, _aaaaaannnnnnd_ those abs he’s so proud of.”

Marius rolled his eyes but reached up a hand to help guide a very lost Feuilly to his face at least. Feuilly had to practically sit on his hands to prevent himself from reaching out. The first time he leaned forward he heard a stray gasp he paused last minute when his nose hit Marius’, there was a moment of awkward pause before he moved and placed a kiss on the boy’s nose.

It took a moment and some awkward giggling before Feuilly felt his way down to Marius’s collar bone. He kissed his own hand first before managing to hit Marius’s skin. Then he grabbed as much fabric as he could of Marius’s t-shirt and lifted it unceremoniously over the boy’s face. Marius let out a string of muffled insults and Feuilly, who was trying to be serious, dissolved into laughter half way through kissing Marius’s chest.

He slid his hands down to the other’s abs eliciting what sounded like a choked giggle. “Ticklish, are we?” Feuilly tortured the boy until Courf intervened. “More kissing! Less tickling!” Marius was on the ground gasping for air when Feuilly laid his hand flat (thank you Enjolras and your insistence at core training) against the boy’s stomach. Using his hand as a guide he kissed it first and then the Marius’ abs. Someone wolf-whistled. Marius fell apart in laughter but Feuilly decided to give them something to whistle about. Quickly he ran his tongue across the other’s stomach eliciting what could only be called a shriek.

“Ok!” Feuilly ripped the blindfold off, “I’m finished! Curse you all, I’m finished!” He was still out of breath and laughing in between words, “anyone volunteer someone as tribute?” Feuilly looked over the crowd with a wicked grin until finally “Combeferre! Truth or Dare?”

Combeferre looked up from his book. Yes, book, he had been reading. Feuilly had expected him to look startled but Combeferre was as cool as ever, “I don’t think I have a choice here, do I? Dare.”

Feuilly paused for a moment. He wanted to get Combeferre but he also feared the other’s wrath. “ENJOLRAS! Aaaannnnddddd Combeferre. Lets have a dramatic kiss, shall we?”

Enjolras tensed for a fraction of a second but then just raised an eyebrow. “Do I have to get up?”

“Do you really want to make out with someone with him in your lap? Enjy, there are subtler ways to ask R for a threesome then using Com and Eponine,” Feuilly had no filter; he was not as bad as R, but close.

Combeferre and Enjolras made eye contact for a fraction of a second. “True. I’d rather have Combeferre all to myself.”

R glanced quickly behind him and then started as Enjolras pushed him off onto the floor. The face poor Grantaire made was comical as his eyebrows shot up in surprise as he hit the ground.

“The floor or the wall, Enjolras?” Combeferre acted like he as suggesting places to eat, not sex positions.

“Anywhere. Just take me.” Enjolras was equally blasé about it.

“Oh, Enjolras,” Combeferre deadpanned as he put his arms around the blonde, “I’ve waited so long for this moment.”

“I’ve wanted you so badly.” Enjolras threw his arms around the boy’s shoulders.

Combeferre leaned in to the whistles and jokes of the spectators and kissed Enjolras, pushing him back against the chair. Feuilly was probably the most shocked, not expecting the quiet boy in the glasses to be the dominating one in the kiss -- or for that matter kissing him in general; Feuilly had thought it would be a peck on the lips at best.

Enjolras’ eyebrows raised in shock for a moment but he gave a theatrical moan and returned it by leaning back and letting the boy have his wicked way with him.

They broke it off after everyone in the room was shifting uncomfortably and Marius had asked Courfeyrac how they could breathe like that. R still had not moved from almost right next to the action and he was beginning to regret that immensely.

“Too bad you’re straight” Enjolras sighed when they finally came up for air.

“Too bad you’re gay.”

“We could have been perfect.”

“Alas, starcrossed.” Combeferre gave a bow and returned to his book and Enjolras clapped. “Bravo!”

Combeferre looked around the room. “Darling, would you mind taking this one? I’m rather interested in this novel.”

Suddenly Enjolras sat up straight and gave a scarily accurate impression of a 40’s housewife. “Of course, dear.” He surveyed his victims like he was going to pounce at any moment. “Grantaire?”


	5. Part 5

“You really cannot do any more damage, can you?” R hid behind a careful wall of sarcasm and pretended disinterest.

“It’s a shame you have no more clothes to get rid of. Hmmm. I am awfully sore after Combeferre ravished me so. A massage then. Until you’re chosen again.” Enjolras’ malevolent purr was back with a vengeance.

R just stared at him. “Why don’t you just pay him to be a personal slave,” Courfeyrac joked.

“Oh that's rich, Courfeyrac,” R countered with an easy grin as he moved to stand behind Enjolras, “I live with you and do most of our laundry, plus get you up in the morning. You wouldn’t last a day if I left you for Enjolras.”

“Plus Combeferre takes care of that,” Bahorel joked and Combeferre raised a hand in acknowledgment.

“As interesting as that would be, I have this awful kink in my shoulder.” He beckoned Grantaire over put his hand on the spot. “See?”

“You are just going to make this a hard as you can.” It wasn’t a question. Regardless, R started. He had done this for Eponine a hundred times.

“Probably.” Enjolras grinned.

“Is it my turn, your majesty?” R managed to become more sarcastic on every word.

“Yes of course, my courtesan.” Enjolras sounded completely serious, unlike Grantaire.

“Who hasn’t been picked on?”

Bahorel raised a hand. So did Marius and Boussuet.

“Marius.”

“Wha-” Oh god he can’t not say dare at this point. “Dare?”

R grinned and Enjolras felt his excitement as a hand dug into his back, “You’re an awful kisser. I”m sure Courfeyrac would love to teach you. Give us a demo, will you?”

 

“Alright.” He turned to Courfeyrac curiously.

“Come here,” Courfeyrac raised a single eyebrow and crooked a finger at Marius.

Marius crawled to him and gave his friend a quick, chaste kiss. Courfeyrac wasn’t half as innocent. 

He pulled the boy into him and they hit the floor.

Marius let out a small noise of surprise but attempted to memorize the way Courf’s lips moved against his regardless. He didn’t notice the sigh that escaped him. 

“You need to follow your instincts, use some teeth and tongue, man.”

“O-okay.” He threaded one hand into Courfeyrac’s hair and bit at the boy’s bottom lip gently and tried his best to replicate what Courfeyrac had done before. He couldn’t bring himself to the same force and excitement but he replaced it with a slow sweetness and passion. “How was that?” Marius asked with a surprisingly innocent tone for a boy pinned under his friend in front of a group of teenagers.

“10/10 would bang,” Feuilly held up a hasty made sheet of paper with a ten on it. 

“You did well, young grasshopper;”Courfeyrac kissed him again, for luck.

Marius quickly became a shade of red previously unknown to mankind. “Boussuet.” Maybe if he ignored the way he was blushing it would go away.

“Dare?” It was Maruis. It couldn’t be that bad.

“I dare you to recount the dirtiest thing you, Joly, and Muchetta have ever done.” Marius smiled sweetly and took a sip of his drink.

“Sex,” Bousseeut said simply.

“How do threesomes work?” Marius cocked his head to one side.

“No,” Joly didn’t really want this conversation to be had in front of all his friends, “No no no.”

“Really though! I don’t get it. How? Courfeyrac?” Marius looked towards the by but Courfeyrac shook his head. 

“You can go watch porn!”Joly squeaked. “There are books!”

“I live with my grandfather! I can’t watch anything!”

Boussuet sighed. “I’m sure Courfeyrac would love to show you. In the meantime, Bahorel, truth or Dare?”

“Dare! And make it a good one, Its almost four and we really should be getting home.”

“Eponine needs some proper wooing,” Bossuet suggested. 

Eponine raised an eyebrow at him and flipped a strand of hair over her shoulder.

Bahorel got down on a knee in front of her. He could be sweet, he really could. “Eponine?”

A smirk found it’s way onto Eponine’s face. “Yes?”

“Will you do me the great honor of being wooed?” He took a hand and pulled her to her feet.

“I’m afraid I’m taken, monsieur.”

“Please?” He kissed her hand and then spun her close.

“Hmm...” She made a show of looking him over. “Alright. You may woo me.”

Bahorel put a hand on her face, “Eponine, I’m going to sing to you. If you deem me worthy afterwards, kiss me and consider yourself wooed.” And with that, he broke into a terrible rendition of _My Heart Will Go On._

Eponine’s eyes widened as he sang loudly and off-key. She could only take a few second of it. “If I kiss you will you stop singing?”

“God, please,” Feuilly moaned, “I’ll kiss him if you won’t.”

Eponine cut Bahorel off by crashing their lips together. “Finally. You, my dear, are tone deaf.”

“But I wooed you.”

“That you did.”

Combeferre looked up. “We all need to crash here.”

“Wait what?” Enjolras looked up.

“We really shouldn’t leave in this state. Can we have the couch and some of the blankets?” Combeferre reasoned. 

Enjolras looked around and noticed that half of his guests were practically asleep, that or completely drunk. “Sure, I have plenty of guest beds two. Cosette can share with me.” 

Grantaire left Enjolras and flopped on the couch, dragging a blanket over him. Eponine rose and took Cosette’s hand. “Dibs on one of the rooms. I need my beauty sleep and frankly I don’t trust that couch.” She looked around the room, “Com? You want to come?” The boy rose and yawned, nodding. 

“Sure!” Cosette beamed. “I’ll show you to it.”

“Dude I’m out.” Feuilly wasn’t kidding. Jehan was convinced that man could fall asleep on anything anywhere. Bahorel was out second on top of him. 

Montparnasse didn’t say a word when he stood and walked over to Cosette. After whispering something to her she chirped. “Jehan, you get the guest bed on the third floor. Above Enjolras and I.” She didn’t mention that he was sharing with Mont.

Courfeyrac pulled Marius closer and used him as a pillow and Joly curled into Bossuet.

They rose at 1 yesterday to the smell of Enjolras, Eponine, and Com attempting to cook pancakes.


End file.
